Phamily Vacation: The Happiest Place on Earth
by BlackmourDragon
Summary: At Christine's insistence, Erik agrees to take their family to . . . the Magic Kingdom. One redeemed Phantom. One former Opera singer. Five hyperactive children. Mass hilarity ensues.


_Authors' Note:_

Kay . . . so . . .

Disney World. Not enough sleep. Coffee smoothies. Phantom movie more than 10 times. Deep abiding love for Erik. Hyperactive phangirls. This story is the result.

Please do not take it seriously. Really. If you take it seriously and write us a nasty review, we will have to abuse you abominably to all your friends and relations. This is a parody. A joke. For fun. Alternate universe, as we should hope is obvious. XD

Well, we should say that this is partially an alternate universe. The Pierpont family _does_ exist within the original _Phantom_ timeframe, but we're still in the process of writing those stories. In the meantime, please enjoy the story of Erik, Christine, and their five (omgFIVE) children at Disney World.

* * *

"Dear?" 

"Yes?" Christine Pierpont replied, moving aside as a small red-headed child ran past her into the brightly lit canopy.

"Why on _earth_ are we getting into a tea-cup?"

Smiling good naturedly as she climbed into an oversized purple and blue cup, she shrugged. "Because the children _want_ to." Looking to a nearby vehicle, she raised her voice slightly as she called out: "Diana! Gabriel! Elisabeth! No fighting! You will all take turns at the wheel!"

"Yes Maman!"

Erik enforced his wife's order with a slight glare at his three eldest children. Looking down at his youngest daughter, who had only just recently turned three years old, he softly whispered to her, "And you, Marguerite, will you want to take a turn at spinning the wheel?"

Etienne, his second youngest affirmed from beside him, "You and Maman should spin, Papa. You're stronger than we are."

Erik gave Christine a look that amounted to _Please, save me, _but got into the large purple tea-cup in a dutiful, fatherly, and self-sacrificing sort of way. Once both of his youngest were settled safely, and the door shut ("Why is there no latch on this door?"), Erik gave one last meaningful look to his eldest daughter in the pink tea-cup next to theirs (she looked innocently back) and sighed with resignation. Too soon, the gates were shut and the ride began to move, very slowly at first, then faster. What began also was music. God. Awful. Music.

Since they'd arrived at the Disney World theme park a little less than 24 hours ago, Erik Pierpont had been subjected to many things. Over friendly staff ("No, we do _not_ want a personalized wake-up call!"), food that made him long for the simple coffee and baguette that he was known to take at home ("Are those _chocolate chips_ in the pancakes?"), and high-pitched, badly composed, soulless music that made him . . . that made him . . .

_Miserable._

Still, Christine had been insistent that they take a family vacation this year, and as their children had never been to Disney World, it had seemed like an opportune time to make the journey. With their eldest, Gabriel, only being thirteen and their youngest, Marguerite, having just turned three, it was a diverse group indeed.

Which did much to explain why he currently found himself spinning out of control in an oversized drinking vessel.

"Erik, I need your help to spin this cup!" Christine shouted to him, her voice just reaching him over the heinous noise.

"Spin it _faster _Papa! **_Oh my GOD, spin it FASTER!"_**

Casting a shocked look at his daughter, who up until now had not been known to make her wishes terribly audible, he could do little but comply.

"I am going to regret this as soon as we stop!" he shouted to his wife, who gave him a rueful look of agreement, but, like him, was helpless to deny the wishes of their children.

Suddenly, all too suddenly, really, the ride was over. The tea-cup stopped, and Erik found himself catching Marguerite so that she would not go flying completely out of the vehicle. Etienne fell over onto the bench, Christine caught herself to keep from crushing him, and Erik tried as valiantly as he could to "be the man" and remain upright.

He was still getting his bearings when he was startled by the sound of his middle child, Elisabeth, screaming in his ear. "Papa! Papa, I want to ride the carousel next! Diana says I can't, she says we have to ride the Snow White ride, now, but it's my turn to pick, Papa tell her it's my turn to pick!"

Erik climbed out of the cup, and self-consciously adjusted his flesh-colored mask. He cleared his throat as he pulled Marguerite out of the ride and rested her against his hip. "It's true, Diana," he said to his second eldest. "It's Elisabeth's turn to pick a ride."

"But Papa," Diana protested, "the Carousel is so boring! And it's not even very long – just a few turns around!"

Gabriel spoke up from behind him. "Actually, father, I don't really fancy riding the carousel, either. If you want, I can take Diana on to Snow White."

Christine, ever desperate to keep her family together in some form of unit, decided the matter for them. "Okay, okay," she said, stopping to rest in front of some lovely Alice in Wonderland topiary. "I can go with whoever wishes to ride Snow White, and your father can go on the Carousel."

Erik gave Christine a panicked look. _What?_

"Oh my GOD, Papa's gonna ride the Carousel with me!" This from Elisabeth.

"Me, too! Me, too!" Marguerite echoed.

Giving Christine a look that suggested the existence of a later conversation about ride assignments, he nodded to his daughters. "Very well," he said. "We shall ride the Carousel. Your mother, Gabriel, and Diana can go on Snow White."

"Etienne," Christine said, kneeling down before her youngest son. "Where would you like to go?"

With an intense gaze so much like his father's, the child looked around the park, trying to process all of the rides and stores within the plethora of colors and sound. "I want . . . I want . . ." Finally, gazing up at his father, he grinned, showing some barely-erupted teeth, "Horses!"

Not sure whether to be happy his son was disinterested in comatose teenager, or frightened that he preferred pastel equines, he the story of a simply nodded. Looking at Christine, he said "Shall we meet up for lunch?"

* * *

Erik sighed in relief as he took his first bite of clam chowder. It was nothing to what he was used to, but it was more than edible. Christine was enjoying a salad that, thankfully, contained more than the core of a sad wilted iceberg head of lettuce and a shriveled tomato. His children, meanwhile, were exclaiming over their meals. "Oh, these are so good! French-fries! Papa, we never have french-fries!" 

Christine looked at them. "Don't be ridiculous, Diana, you have them all the time. They're called 'chips' where we live. And you are having fish and chips. You have that at least once a week back in Yorkshire."

"But it's better here!" Etienne put in. "I like French-fries much better than chips!"

"It's the _same thing_, Etienne," Erik snarked. "And please, do _not_ call them 'french-fries.' It's insulting. You may call them 'chips,' or you may call them '_les frites_.' Not 'french-fries.' Ugh! _Les américains sont des grands imbeciles!_" The last muttered under his breath.

"Erik, my darling, do not be caustic with the children." Christine's voice was pleasant enough, but when he looked up at her face, he could clearly see the unspoken _Or else_ in her eyes. He winced.

"I'm not being caustic!"

"You are! You've been in a mood ever since you got off the carousel. Elisabeth said you practically threatened another tourist."

"He was trying to take Etienne's horse! We flew ten hours to be here, and Etienne is going to get the horse he wants! He was already halfway up there when the man tried to put his own brat in the saddle!"

Beside him, Etienne could be heard trying to suppress giggles. He noticed the look from his mother and spoke in his father's defense. "But Papa was excellent, Maman! That man was mean anyway!"

Christine sighed, defeated. "Still, it is not acceptable conduct, and I would _hope_ that you could all be set a better example than that."

Erik looked properly contrite, and the conversation moved on. Gabriel leaned over, however, and whispered "Well done, Papa," when no one else was listening.

With the admiration of his two sons safely secured for him, Erik cheerfully went back to his lunch.

* * *

Arriving in Frontierland, the Pierponts ran, yet again, into their recurring problem. 

"I wanna go on Thunder Mountain!" Diana declared upon seeing the rocky outcroppings.

"Nooooo!" Elisabeth cried, her blue eyes widening at the height of the rollercoaster. "I don't _wanna_ go on that one, Papa! It's scary!"

Christine closed her eyes briefly, calling for patience. "Very well," she said, prepared to invoke the usual diplomacy. "One of us can go on the ride with you, and the other can perhaps go and look at another –"

"**No!" **Diana protested, folding her arms and glaring at her parents. "_Je désire vous deux avec moi! Je ne reçois rien_ _ce que je desire!"_

Erik flashed her a warning look. "_Arrête ça_," he said. "There's no reason whatsoever that you need both of us to ride with you."

"Besides," her mother added, "you must think of your younger sister. She's still too young to go on this ride. We can't possibly leave her and Elisabeth alone."

Diana sniffed, a tear beginning to trickle down her cheek. She looked at her older brother imploringly. Generally unable to deny his sister's wishes, he sighed and gave one last look at the rambling rail carts. "I'll stay with Elisabeth and Marguerite," he offered.

Christine frowned. "Gabriel, no. You should go and enjoy this ride! This is your vacation, too."

Already ahead of his mother, he took Marguerite from his father's arms and held out his hand to Elisabeth. "Don't worry about it, Maman. I'll have other opportunities. Please, go. Diana so wants to have you with her."

Wanting to take command of the situation, but feeling touched by his son's gesture, Erik nodded approvingly at him. "Do not go far," he instructed. "And try to stay away from _l-a g-l-a-c-e_."

_Right_, Gabriel thought. _No ice cream._

_

* * *

_  
The Thunder Mountain Railroad was a little train shaped roller coaster. Christine found herself thinking it was a little fast for her tastes, but Erik was looking forward to the adrenaline rush that would no doubt come. Speed was something he liked, when it wasn't in tiny circles. Etienne had insisted on coming, and he was trying as valiantly as he could to appear as if he wasn't nervous, but as they approached the place where they were to board the coaster, he was clutching his father's fingers so tightly that Erik was certain they would fall off at any second.

Once they were going, though, he was excited. He sat on the outside of their own little row, towards the front of the train, Christine was next to him, then Etienne, and finally Diana, who wanted to be on the end. As he had hoped, Erik actually found himself enjoying the ride. The wind felt good on his face, that side that could feel it, and the speed was exhilarating. Christine seemed to be enjoying it less. Her eyes were shut tight, and she was clutching the bar in front of her so tightly that her knuckles were white. Not feeling particularly nervous himself, Erik freed one of his own hands to place his arm around her. The coaster chose that moment to go into a violent turn, and Christine was thrown up against him with a squeal.

It was at that moment that Erik truly fell in love with Disney World. Or centripetal force, whichever was the most directly responsible for him having his wife's body thrown against his. Regardless of the cause, he thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the ride's twisting and turnings, profoundly aware of each time the train took a sharp deviation from its previous course.

As they pushed themselves out of the cart after the ride ceased motion, Erik couldn't resist leaning down to Christine to whisper in her ear, "I believe that was my favorite ride."

Blushing faintly, she coughed before taking a hold of Etienne's hand. "Perhaps we shall ride that one again before we leave."

Gabriel was relieved when he looked towards Thunder Mountain and saw his parents and siblings coming out of it. Although he loved his younger sisters, they were beginning to tire in the early afternoon hour and his patience was wearing a bit on the thin side.

_I don't see how my parents do it,_ he observed, handing Marguerite to his mother. "Did you have fun?" he asked, trying to keep the wistful tone out of his voice.

Casting his eldest a knowing look, Erik replied, "Certainly. I've always been a fan of roller coasters. What have the three of you been up to?"

"Papa!" Elisabeth said, tugging on to his shirt. "Gabriel took us to the bridge an' we saw BIRDS. They wanted our popcorn but we didn't give them any!"

"Popcorn, you say?" Erik said, raising his eyebrow at Gabriel, who grinned and shrugged.

Nuzzling her nose into her mother's curly, brown hair, Marguerite whispered in her ear. "Is that what you wish to see next, my darling?"

"What is it, Maman?" Elisabeth asked, opening her little purse to check her camera.

Christine smiled. "It would seem that there is a story hour in Belle's Fairytale Garden. Do you mind terribly if we make our way back to Fantasy Land?"

Seeing as all of Erik's children had a proper appreciation for Beauty and the Beast, there were no objections.

* * *

It was a number of hours later that the Pierpont family found themselves back in Liberty Square. Although they had wanted to ride the Haunted Mansion earlier, the line had been atrocious, and Erik had declared to Christine that since he had _been_ a ghost, he had no desire to wait in line an hour to see computer generated ones. 

Still, there was a bit of a wait in front of the ride, and it was while standing in line that Erik noticed something slightly . . . odd. Nudging Christine with his elbow, he winced slightly as Marguerite squeezed her arms even more tightly around his neck. "Uh, why are those reins floating in mid-air?"

Christine looked to where Erik was pointing and saw that, indeed, the black hearse was being drawn by the mere _shape_ of a horse.

"I think it's supposed to be a ghost horse. Because we're at the Haunted Mansion. Believe in the magic, dear."

Erik blinked. "Oh yes…very…clever." He was trying as hard as he could to be patient and enjoy himself, but as the day wore on, he found himself growing more and more nervous and cranky. It was too warm. He didn't like being amongst all these people. He didn't like being bustled and pushed from one place to another. He felt certain that everyone had been staring at him since the moment they'd arrived. He was glad that his children were enjoying themselves. He was also glad it was getting dark. Dark was comfort. The Haunted Mansion promised to be dark, and he was in fact beginning to feel relief that it was the next ride on their itinerary. He glanced over at Gabriel, able to tell that his son was also looking forward to the cool interior of the ride. He had been extremely impressed with the boy's willingness to assist his mother and father as they navigated the park with the four other children.

_Perhaps I shall have to find a way to reward him_, he thought.

All thoughts of Gabriel's validation for his assistance were put aside for the time being, as the large doors in front of the house opened and the Pierponts were ushered inside.

It took approximately two seconds before Marguerite's grip was on the verge of being a danger to Erik's windpipe, and he pried his daughter's away from his body, comforting her in softly spoken French. Christine, ever aware of her children's discomforts, kissed her daughter gently on the cheek as they stepped inside a room filled with strange paintings. Then, a voice began to resonate throughout the room.

"Welcome, Foolish Mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host, your . . . _ghost host_."

Erik winced.

"Hmmm. Our tour begins here, in this gallery. Here, where you see paintings of some of our guests as they appeared in their corruptible, **mortal** state."

Elisabeth looked around with fright and stepped closer to Gabriel, grabbing his hand. It was only seconds before Diana did the same.

"Kindly step all the way in please, and make room for everyone. There's no turning back now . . ."

Etienne nearly leapt into Christine's arms.

Although he knew very well that the Haunted Mansion was a ride, years of raised defenses had Erik standing close to his family, his senses torn between watching them and observing how the room appeared to stretch before his eyes.

"Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding, almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it your imagination, hmm? And consider this dismaying observation: this chamber has no windows, **and no doors**. Which offers you this chilling challenge: to find A WAY OUT!"

Erik flinched as the room went completely dark. His eyes quickly adjusted and he was able to make out what looked to be a dead body hanging above them. He grit his teeth as his youngest let out an ear-piercing shriek.

_Well, at least her range is good, _he thought.

"Of course, there is always MY way . . ." the voice suggested, the tone full of temptation and enticement. To the left, a doorway opened and the crowd was ushered through.

A thought then occurred to Erik. "Christine," he whispered. "How are we going to divide up the children?"

Christine looked at the Doombuggies, and glanced at the children. "Diana and Elisabeth together, Gabriel and Marguerite with you, Etienne with me?" she asked.

Erik looked at Diana and Elisabeth, noting that they looked too tired to be mischievous. "Yes," he agreed. "That will do nicely."

In they went, and off they were. Marguerite spent pretty much the entire ride with her face pressed into the side of his white button down shirt, but Gabriel seemed to be enjoying the spooky feel of the place, and pointed out things that he particularly enjoyed. "_Oh, regarde, Papa!_ That candelabra is floating all on its own! Oh, wow! I like the ballroom!" Erik smiled, even managing to ignore the atrocious organ music playing in the background, in the face of his son's enjoyment. They were moving through a graveyard full of jazz-singing ghouls when suddenly the Doombuggy came to a jerky stop.

Erik blinked. Waited. After a moment, the voice of their "ghost host" came on the speaker next to his ear. "It seems some pesky ghosts are causing trouble ahead. Please remain seated in your Doombuggy."

Gabriel looked around at the still-dancing animatronic ghosts that surrounded them. "Well, Papa? What shall we do?"

* * *

Christine had been surprised when the ride froze, but had decided to make the best of the situation, sitting back and singing along with the ghosts – the latter of which amused her son to no end. 

"Maman, you sing so pretty!" he exclaimed, snuggling up next to her.

Christine chuckled. She wasn't sure if the music coming from the ghosts and ghouls could be classified as 'pretty,' but she wouldn't say so to her son. "_Merci,_" she said, tousling his hair. "Did you see the floating violin?" she asked, pointing to the instrument above them.

Before her son could answer, she felt something rock against their Doombuggy, and sat up in alarm. She swung around and upon recognizing the shadowy figure, felt a combination of relief and exasperation.

"Erik!" she whispered. "How did you get _out_?"

Erik blinked at her. "I'm the Phantom," he said simply. Looking down at his son, he asked him: "Etienne, would you like to sit with Gabriel for awhile?"

Etienne looked hesitant.

Erik knelt down next to the cart and said, "You've been such a brave boy," he observed. "I thought perhaps you'd like to join your brother to help protect your sister." He leaned forward conspiratorially: "I think she needs _both_ of her _grands frères _with her."

Feeling self-important, Etienne nodded seriously to his father. "I shall protect her, _mon père_." After Erik miraculously lowered the bar, and saw Etienne safely into the other cart, he slid in next to Christine and pulled the bar back down.

Christine was looking at him strangely. He blinked at her. "What?"

"I know what you're thinking, Erik," she said archly. "Is this really the appropriate time and place? They could start up at any moment."

"Christine, my love, I told you, I am the _Phantom_. They will be stopped for quite some time."

She gasped, pulling back. "Erik, you didn't—"

His eyes widened. "No, no no! I just…heard some things. I made a little detour before I came to get Etienne." He nuzzled her neck. "I wouldn't have gone to all this trouble unless I was certain we had ample time to properly enjoy the delay…"

"Hmmmm," she murmured. "Well, just as long as they won't catch us necking like teenagers. Snogging _is_ a brilliant way to end a long day," she admitted.

"The day _has_ been extremely tedious," he agreed. Before he lowered his head to kiss her lips, however, he heard a rather unfortunate chord from the organ, and couldn't help but wince.

"The music in this theme park is positively revolting," he complained, nuzzling her cheek. "The organ itself is enough to make me desirous of smashing large objects."

Christine gave him a sympathetic look. "I thought of you when I heard it," she said, reaching up to brush the hair back off of his face. "It's definitely not the style that we're used to, is it?"

"Just as long as none of the children wish to bring soundtracks home, all will be well."

"Well, you know –"

Christine's thoughts were then pointed in another direction by the attentions of her husband, and if anyone observed that their particular Doombuggy exhibited an extra bit of motion when compared to the others, she and Erik would have been the first to express shock and disbelief.

* * *

As Erik had predicted, it took some time for the ride to start up again, but it quickly finished its course through the mansion. Given the ride's events, however, it's quite understandable that Christine gave her seatmate a heavily loaded look when the mysterious Voice suggested that a ghost would be following her home. 

Taking Erik's hand in hers, she couldn't help but comment to him: "I believe one is enough for me to handle."

"Time for one more ride, if we want to be around to see the fireworks," Christine announced. "We haven't been on the rides over in Tomorrowland."

Gabriel pursed his lips. "Well," he began carefully, "I had hoped to ride Space Mountain, but…I think it might be too much for the others."

"Uh-uh!" Elisabeth gasped desperately. "That's too scary! May we ride Buzz Lightyear instead?"

Gabriel tried not to look disappointed, but nodded nonetheless. Full of sympathy for his son, who had sacrificed so much and taken care of the younger siblings more than once that day, he spoke up. "Here, Gabriel and I will go and ride Space Mountain. Why don't the rest of you ride Buzz Lightyear, and we'll meet afterwards."

Diana opened her mouth to protest, but Erik caught her before she could get a word out. "No, Diana. Not this time. This is just for Gabriel and me. You ride with your Maman and your other siblings. We'll see you after."

Diana pouted a little, but did not protest as he half expected her to. He noticed Gabriel looking up at him with something like adoration and gratitude, and preened a little under the silent praise, glad that he had, in some way, been able to pay his son back for all his patience and understanding. He had hardly blinked an eye when his father had brought Etienne to him in the Haunted Mansion; most likely he was certain of what was going on in his parents' Buggy, and he'd even given the older man a knowing look before accepting his younger brother.

After arranging a meeting time, father and son walked towards the large white, spiral building. They enjoyed a few moments of companionable silence, relishing a reprieve from the bubbly personalities of the younger Pierpont children.

Feeling a little awkward, Erik said to him as they entered the line for the ride: "I want to thank you for your help today. Your brother and sisters are trying, and you have made the entire experience easier on us all."

Gabriel shrugged. "It was nothing," he assured him. "I'm glad that it was a help to you." Unable to keep from giving his father a sidelong glance, he cleared his throat and commented, "Although, I don't believe I enjoyed the Haunted Mansion _nearly_ as much as you did."

Erik did his best to keep a straight face before changing the subject. "So, tell me about this ride . . ."


End file.
